Simple. I decided I wanted a place to write, at least every few days. At that pace, I'll have enough stuff for a writing porfolio, and see what I can do with it. But, at this point, I'm drained..
I think, and I'm at a loss for what to talk about. I rant at random.
It's lyrical venting at it's best, ironic tendancies, and blissful ignorance.
Pervert with a passion for words. What can I say...? Alot.
I'm spitful, and raging. Torrant and confused.
I have emotions and they stand at still, and I'm spinning in a daze of the non-existant.
My words make so much sense to the tired eye, maybe even high...
- high on illusional-dilusional... hypothetical... perfection.
On this note... I'll just walk away. My tummy hurts, and I want to talk to Geoff. Merph. I hate attachment, and he ain't even my damn boyfriend. ::eye rolls::